


Gazpacho

by SaekoCrolla (Crollalanza)



Series: Sports Fest 2018 Haikyuu!! [24]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 07:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15681054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/SaekoCrolla
Summary: The world is their oyster. They're about to pack up and leave with no real plan. And only Oikawa is bothered.





	Gazpacho

**Author's Note:**

> written for sportsfest  
> Prompt: 
> 
> satellite images, maps and blueprints  
> of the whole world, of every city
> 
> we could go look it up and know what's there in someone else's words
> 
> or we could get wicked drunk  
> and just go

There’s a board in Hanamaki’s room on which he’s pinned pictures and articles. It’s an eclectic mix of good and better news, zany pictures of dogs, a cat stuck in a tree house, and a bowl of gazpacho. Some of the features he knows off by heart having read them over and over, others have been up for years and he’s long since pinned over them.

Matsukawa once asked him why he didn’t throw the yellowing papers away, and he’d shrugged and said he’d never got around to it.

“There’s none of us here,” Oikawa muses, tilting his head to the side as he examines it. “Don’t you want the volleyball team immortalised on your pinboard?”

“Nope.” He gestures to the bookshelf and the team picture taken at the beginning of their third year. On the shelf below is a smaller photograph of the four of them in their first year, one which Oikawa dislikes because the sun had been in his eyes, but it’s a good one of Mattsun and Iwaizumi’s snarling, so Hanamaki found a frame and kept it.

“Well, anyway, I brought these around for you,” Oikawa says and produces a stack of books. “My parents have found them useful.”

“Oooh, guide books.”  Matsukawa picks one up, flipping through it until he finds a picture of a coconut tree. “Not sure they grow these in Europe, do they?”

“I grabbed what I could find,” Oikawa replies, a little haughty. “Besides you haven’t told anyone where you’re going?”

Mattsun smirks. “We’re too scared you’ll follow us.” 

“Imagine Oikawa Tooru popping up in every city,” Hanamaki says, and clasps his face. “The horror! The horror!”

“I’d be an excellent guide,” Oikawa says, but he’s not put out and lolls back on Hanamaki’s bed. “My mother marks everything down in those guide books, by the way, so you’re bound to find something useful.”

 Closing the coconut book with a decisive snap, Mattsun stands with his back to the room and faces the pinboard. “I think we’re good.”

“You have planned this, though?”

“Of course! Meticulous planning over several beers,” replies Hanamaki.  He relents, seeing the alarm in Oikawa’s face. “We have tickets, we have allocated times in each country, and a list of must-dos. We’re good, Oikawa, all right?”

“You learn more from experience than reading,” says Matsukawa. He’s touching the picture from Spain, the one of the gazpacho, the deep red soup in a terracotta bowl.  “It’s really served ice cold, is it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, we’re skipping Spain,” Matsukawa whispers, but he’s grinning and Hanamaki knows he doesn’t mean it.


End file.
